


(17) — BASSET HOUND.

by Cheschire_Kaat



Series: *＊The FT Kama Sutra Challenge＊* [14]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Clone Sex, Dubious Consent, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Kama Sutra, M/M, Self-cest, Sex Position: Basset Hound, Sex Positions, Threesome - M/M/M, im sorry mom. internet changed me., ok im scaring me w my own tags.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 10:57:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19249792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheschire_Kaat/pseuds/Cheschire_Kaat
Summary: Kama Sutra Challenge, FT Edition * / (17) BASSET HOUND.- - - - -Jellal’s fuzzy mind can’t piece back the when, nor the how, he ended up in this position — for, last he had known, he had been at his guild’s campment, suffocating the dying flames of their campfire. Yet—- - - - - -*TRIGGER WARNING:  Dubious Consent. Selfcest-ish.





	(17) — BASSET HOUND.

**Author's Note:**

> ** THIS IS UNBETAED AND PROBABLY A BIG OL' FUCKING MESS.

Jellal’s fuzzy mind can’t piece back the  _ when _ , nor the  _ how _ , he ended up in this position — for, last he had known, he had been at his guild’s campment, suffocating the dying flames of their campfire. Yet, he is currently standing on all four,  _ naked _ , butt sticking up and relying on his arms to support him, palms flat against the mattress . Questions should be raising in his mind, but the fingers scissoring him are claiming every bit of his focus, making it hard to think about anything else — or simply  _ think,  _ **_at all_ ** . 

 

The addition of a third digit makes him clench his fists; the fourth, begged for ( which made the stranger chuckle ), has him gasping for breath.

 

It has been so long, far too long, since the last time blue-haired wizard had taken fingers, or anything for that matter, up his ass. Far too absorbed by his chase and repentance, the undeserving Crime Sorcière leader had let his sexuality fall to the bottom of his priority list, turned into a forbidden fruit he couldn’t allow himself to bite into, unworthy as he is. 

 

Yet it only makes the deed more sinful — more maddening; long forgotten is the sweet, scorching pleasure of being stretched and filled to the brim. Burning, like a flame, is the desire to know it again. Now that the blue-haired man has let himself get a taste, he only seeks the full experience — the entire meal. 

 

_ Damned will be the consequences _ .

 

Feeling far too hot to truly care about who was behind him, Jellal does nothing but eagerly welcome the sound of pants dropping to the floor. His mystery partner’s ragged breathing is audible; he hears him pop open, once again, the bottle of lube — imagines the way his fingers trail across his shaft to coat his erection with the liquid; he holds his breath as the man rubs himself against the crack of his behind, teasing the puckered hole — until he finally lines up and slowly pushes into his entrance.

 

Jellal’s grip onto the white sheets tightens, and he exhaled with a shudder. The sting is present, unavoidable, yet it only feeds into his unholy desire. He’s impatient. So is the other man; he feels him push deeper, a bit harder— 

  
  


“Gods, you’re so  _ tight _ —”, his partner’s voice pants from behind him — and shatters through Jellal’s lust, brutally pulling him back to lucidness. 

 

For that voice — it was familiar, and  _ far too similar _ to his own.

 

The Heavenly Body mage whips his head around, and his hazel gaze falls upon a perfect reflection of himself — clothed from the waist up, but bare down, with strange floaty clothing he remembers having worn as a disguise and a bandana tied around his neck. 

 

( Maybe he should have given a bit more thought to the identity of the man pulling the reins. )

 

“Hello”, Mystogan waves, smiling slightly sheepishly as he punctuates his sentence with a thrust that floors Jellal before he can actually protest or say  _ anything _ . 

 

“What are you—  _ hnng ! _ ”

“ _ Shhhh _ ”, his Edolas counterpart shushes him, bending and pressing his torso against his back. Jellal feels his doppleganger’s bandaged arms snake around his chest, tweaking a nipple ( which tears a gasp from the guildmaster’s throat ) — burying his face into the crook of his neck, lips teasing the sensitive skin until teeth are added to the mix. Mystogan finds the spot that makes Jellal’s back arch and his toes curl, and he bites down — providing the wizard at his mercy a combo of pain and pleasure that makes him writhe deliciously. “Now, I know this might seem strange — but please. Relax and enjoy, I’ll take care of you.”

 

Jellal’s only reply is the breathy, shuddering moan he finds himself unable to hold back. He’s absolutely utterly mortified, but it seems enough for the king: with a soft chuckle, he resumes his previous action, climbing to a pace with a strenght and depth that almost, almost makes Jellal forget about the fact that he’s having intercourse with — well,  _ himself _ . 

 

_ Almost _ — for life has yet another trick up its sleeve, it seems.

 

“I see that the both of you are having fun”, a third voice rings out, snarky and ( again ) too familiar to Jellal’s liking. “And without me, too? How disappointing.”

  
  


“Oh, you have to be  _ kidding me. _ ”

 

Siegrain steps forward, out of the darkness, clad of his signature council attire, clicking his tongue. The newcomer’s arrival gets Mystogan to considerably slow down his trusts, and Jellal frankly, bashfully wishes he didn’t mourn the loss of friction as much as he does in that very moment.

 

“Now, now; don’t be like that, Jellal.”

  
  


Without any ceremony, Siegrain pops his pants open and pulls them down, along with his boxers, to reveal his already half-hard length. He wraps his hand around his shaft, giving it a couple of generous strokes before advancing closer and poking its tip against a wide-eyed Jellal’s lips.

 

“Why don’t you show me what your pretty mouth is capable of?”

 

“How…  _ narcissic _ of you”, Jellal manages to shoot back in spite of his shock, his sentence chopped by his labored breaths. The council member cackles, grabbing him less than gently by the back of his head. 

 

“If you aren’t going to love yourself, then  _ someone  _ has got to do it for you. Now, open up~”

  
  


His old hologram nods to the third party; it is the signal Mystogan has been awaiting. The king of Edolas grabs Jellal’s buttocks and enters him once again in one, swift motion. He is quick to pick up the pace, but even quicker to find the sensitive spot hidden at its end. The succeeding, delicious assaults of his prostate rips from the Heavenly Body mage on his receiving end a cry of ecstasy, and Siegrain uses the opportunity to dig his fingers into blue locks and slide his throbbing dick past Jellal’s parted lips.

 

Jellal almost chokes, thrown off; the noise of surprise is faint, muffled, echoing slightly against the walls of his occupied mouth. When Siegrain starts rocking his hips, sliding his cock in and out and against his tongue, the movement ( combined with Mystogan’s own ) breathes into the Crime Sorcière guildmaster the temptation to suck onto the intruding member, a temptation to which he falls. The old council member groans, gladly welcoming Jellal’s newfound collaboration.

 

————

  
  


Mystogan’s balls met his asscheeks with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing, in tune with Jellal’s frenetic heartbeat. All those sounds — the slaps, the pounding in his ears, the grunts and pants coming from his partners as well as the moans spilling out of his own mouth, created a unique, erotic melody that merely made Jellal crave it all harder, stronger, faster, deeper—

 

“Yeahhh, that’s it”, Siegrain moans out as the Star Wizard mouth bobs up and down on his erection, eventually taking him deep into the back of his throat. “Choke on my dick Fernandes. Bet you’d like that, eh?” Half-lidded orbs or amber cross the identical gaze of his hologramic twin, standing talk and proud in front of him. “You’re such a good boy — taking it all in, from both ends, like the good little  _ cockslut  _ that you are —”

 

“—Don’t you think that you’re pushing the dirty talk a little too far?” Mystogan butts in, cocking his head. Siegrain laughs. 

 

“Why, no; look at him, he enjoys it.” 

 

His bandana-clad double shrugs and takes a liking to his neck once again, grazing his teeth over every inch he can reach — occasionally leaving bright spots in his wake which are reddening by the minute. 

  
  


Jellal feels the surge of his orgasm build up, threatening to wash over him like a tsunami — violent and unforgiving. Siegrain apparently notices, judging by the way his smirk widens considerably. Pulling himself out of the Heavenly Body mage’s mouth, his look-alike grabs him by the chin, lets his thumb graze over Jellal’s bottom lip, humid with saliva— tilts his head back. Jellal’s gaze meets the identical one of twin, whose irises burn with a fire that sets his insides alight.

 

“Come on, then” Siegrain speaks teasingly, baritone low and husky. “What are you waiting for?”

 

“ _ Let yourself go _ .”

 

Mystogan hits his prostate  _ just  _ at the right angle — and just like that, Jellal’s vision bursts with STARS.

————

 

It is with a loud gasp that Jellal wakes up, fumbling to retrieve his balance — grabbing the nearest log of the bunch on which his guildmates and him had all sat hours ago for supper.His brutal awakening is met with the silence of the summer night, the faded sound of crickets chirping and leaves cracking as only disturbers. 

 

In front of him lays the burned rests of the campfire, the amber flames now long dead — and the cold of the night suddenly makes itself known, biting at the freckled skin of his exposed face. 

 

A shiver runs down the disoriented mage’s spine — and it is not  _ only _ an effect of the cold. 

 

Jellal tries to stand up — and hisses as his straining erection aches in his pants; his head hurt, and he’s strangely out of breath.

 

Realizing what happens, Jellal falls back onto the groan with a desperate groan, hiding his face behind his hands — which is turning redder and redder as he picks up the details of his arousing dream.

 

“Perhaps I’m too out of it”, he ponders — and he is indeed, he thinks, if he had found his own person ( or basically ) as a proper star for his… fantasy.

_ — he wants to  _ **_die_ ** _ just by referring it as such. _

  
  


His fingers trail toward his bottom half with a pang of guilt and hesitation — ( one time can’t hurt, can it? he’s far too hard for a mere cold bath in the river to fix ) —— utterly oblivious to the read marks scattered along the skin of his neck he’ll fumble to explain, out of embarrassment and sheer horror, when the morning comes.

**Author's Note:**

> Let's all get on our knees and hope my family never _ever_ finds out about this. HALLELUJAH.


End file.
